Crystal Castle
by Bleeding Star Goddess
Summary: LVHP, Past DMHP He was always cold now, always dizzy, and the darkness was all consuming... Highly confusing, mind control, some violence, dark


**Title:** Crystal Castle

**Chapter:** 1/1

**Author:** Bleeding Star Goddess (aka BSG)

**Wordcount:** 999

**Pairing:** (past) Draco/Harry and hints of Voldemort/Harry

**Rating:** PG

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings:** This story shall contain a Post-War situation, this story shall also contain character insanity, abstract ideas, and slightly... alright, very confusing situations.

**Summary:** He was always cold now, always dizzy, and the darkness was all consuming...

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**_Crystal Castle_**

He was walking through the halls of glass. He was a memory, a faded idea.

He would wander the halls with no real intent, forgotten and sometimes, remembered. The darkness had put him in a glass castle, with crystal walls and stained window. But it didn't know he would try to break them, try to get out, or maybe it did with the way it would chuckle and pick the glass out of his hands. How foolish of the darkness, red windows, did it hate him? Did it want to torment him? He hated the color red, it was too much like blood, too much like the sun, and both hurt his eyes, both stole his breath. It left him in a glass castle to be stared at and no one ever visited, no one ever took him away.

He was always cold, as well, he had the kind of chill that settled into the bones and wouldn't leave even if the fires of hell were to touch his skin. His veins were frozen in amber, his heart incased in diamonds, and his lungs surrounded by coal. He was dying, or rather he was dead but the darkness had trapped him in that one moment between the living and the deceased, where the last breath hadn't quite fled from the body and only half of his mind and soul were intact. Maybe not even half, he wasn't quite sure, but he was never aware long enough to know. He was already mad though, so he guessed that the windows could stay, he just didn't like the color red.

He was always half asleep or half-awake as well, never quite aware of the world around him. But he knew that he was in a glass castle, of that he was sure.

_ "Harry..."_

He shook his head, sometimes he dreamt of red haired boys, and star twinkling blue eyes. Sometimes he heard the laughter of intelligent girls in his dreams or the sharp tongue but pretty eyes of a blonde boy. But his mind always forgot them when he awoke to the darkness. The darkness was all consuming and his only constant companion in the glass castle. The darkness would laugh at him, taunt him, or sometimes soothe him, and exalt him. Tell him he lost but also tell him he had won. He never understood what he had lost or won though; he supposed it was his mind he had lost and the castle he had won.

"We are gathered here today to relay the sad news…"

He stood near one of the glass walls and peered out. There was such a large blur around his walls, he wondered if the blur was anyone or anything that knew him. The blur was always moving, always making noise and loud clatter, as if fighting.

The darkness stood beside him, laughing as it gently ran its hand through his hair. It kept telling him that he was lost, that there was no hope now. He turned to the darkness and was about to agree with it wholly when he saw something move out of the blur from the corner of his eye. He turned his head and the darkness hissed. The blur was pounding on his glass walls.

_ "No Harry!" _

He blinked, what on earth was the blur doing? The darkness just gently guided him away and he gazed over his shoulder at the blur, it had blonde silver hair and pale skin and pretty blue orbs. The darkness was whispering that he would be fine and that everything would be dealt with.

_ "You can't Harry!"_

Can't? Can't what? He gazed up at the darkness and back at the blur as the blur continued to pound on his walls, the glass was starting to crack. The darkness hissed again and he wondered idly what was wrong.

"We are gathered here today to relay the sad news…"

The darkness laughed as two other blurs came up and pulled away the one pounding on his walls. The other blurs weren't bright like the yelling one, they were nothing but black.

_ "Harry!" _

What was the blur screaming at? And who was Harry? The darkness just gently guided him away from the outside glass walls and further into the crystal castle. He smiled at the darkness, the only thing he could remember being a constant in his life. The darkness was smiling at him now, praising him.

"The day that Harry Potter…"

The darkness was covering his ears with white hands. He thought it odd that the darkness would be stark white, but he never questioned it. The darkness rubbed circles on his back soothingly, and led him into the only room that wasn't crystal, or glass, or stained, but rather stone. He saw masses and masses of black blurs fall close to the floor. The darkness lead him through them, not letting him fall or slip as they walked past the blurs.

He wondered briefly if the mass of blurs were the shadows of the darkness. He was walked past the mass and sat down in front of it. The darkness spoke and he felt himself grow dizzy. He was always dizzy now; he was always tired, and always cold. He felt the darkness shift him and now he was sitting on the darkness, or laying on it, he wasn't quite sure. But his head was moved to rest somewhere, and he did not complain. The darkness laughed happily. He closed his eyes.

It was always dark now, despite the sun he knew that gleamed through the windows. The darkness put a hand over his eyes. He never did like the sun much anyways…

"As Harry Potter became a traitor to the Wizarding world and turned his back on the light."  
Many of the wizards and witches sobbed. They had all been there, at the final battle and they somehow blamed themselves, for the loss of the spirit that was Harry Potter to Lord Voldemort.

End

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Yes, one of my few one-shots. There may actually be a sequel to this, I have not yet decided it really depends on how well this one is received.


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